Granted, if it ever passed into law (a very big if in Effie’s estimation), a married women’s property bill would provide some protection. But it still wouldn’t give a woman the same freedom she’d have if she remained unwed. Without a husband to encumber her, Effie could go where she wished and live as she chose. She envisioned a snug little flat for her and Franc when all this was over. A place entirely their own.

Lady Belwood looked at her, perplexed. “Why else would a girl of your age take part in the season?”

“To enlarge my acquaintance,” Effie said vaguely.

“I see. And do the other girls…” The bouncing lights from the carriage lamps danced over Lady Belwood’s unusually tense face. “Do any of them go into society as you have been doing?”

A rogue glimmer of compassion stirred in Effie’s breast. “No, my lady. None.”

Lady Belwood’s countenance softened with something like relief. “Yes, well, I had thought—” She broke off. “That is, I should never have expected—”

The carriage slowed.

Her ladyship looked gratefully to the window, leaving her sentence unfinished. “Ah. I perceive we have arrived.”

Effie followed her gaze as the carriage came to a halt. The Comptons’ stately white-stuccoed house was lit with torches. A liveried footman awaited them on the front step. No other carriages were lined up ahead of them. It appeared Effie and Lady Belwood were the first to arrive.

“You’re a little early, my dear,” Lady Compton said, greeting them in the hall. “My husband and daughter aren’t yet down.”

“Oh, are we? How embarrassing.” Lady Belwood tittered nervously as she received a kiss on both cheeks from her hostess.

“Not at all,” Lady Compton said. “This will give Miss Flite an opportunity to become acquainted with my daughter. Parker?” She caught the eye of her butler. “Show Miss Flite to Carena’s room.” She turned to Effie. “My daughter’s maid is putting the finishing touches on her toilette. Her friends are with her—Lady Lavinia and Miss Whitbread. I’m sure they would be glad for you to join them.”

“It would be my pleasure, ma’am,” Effie said.

“And don’t let them tarry overlong,” Lady Compton added. “I can already hear the other carriages arriving.”

“This way, miss,” the butler said to Effie. He was a large, balding man with hard eyes and a crooked nose that appeared to have been broken several times. He motioned to the central staircase.

Effie allowed one of the footmen to take her cloak before obediently following the butler up the marble steps. She’d hoped to have a moment before the evening’s activities commenced to revisit Compton’s library. Then again, a connection with the man’s daughter might prove useful. Either way, the acquaintance was unavoidable.